Brown on blue
by CosmeticSquelch
Summary: Alternate reality no mention of a Stargate. SamJack. What if they had met under very different circumstances? A tiny bit of DanielJanet, but nothing to worry about if u dnt like that. Rated T, just in case, but mostly there's only bad language.
1. Prologue: The Ultimate Cure

Ok, this is my first fic, so be nice:OD It starts in a high school setting, but it is not a high school fic. It is, however, a totally alternate reality, no mention of a Stargate.

Disclaimer: I don't own them (although I kinda wish I did), so don't sue!

Age restriction. I'll give it a 'for 12yrs or over' rating, I think the American equivalent is PG-13. That's just for a little bad language.

Enjoy!

**Prologue: The ultimate cure.**

He was ambling across the sports field, heading for the bike shed when he saw her. She was sitting at the bottom of the stands, knees tucked beneath her chin. Her short blonde hair was sticking up everywhere, as if she had forgotten to comb it that morning. Her hands were clenched in tight fists, and her face was buried behind her knees. But that's not what he noticed. It was they way her shoulders shook with silent, heaving sobs. The saddest sight he had ever seen in his seventeen years.

Wrenching his eyes from the girl, he took another step towards the bike shed, before making a decision. Hesitantly, he turned and started to walk towards her. As the sound of his footsteps reached her ears, she stiffened. When she looked up he noted that her eyes were startlingly blue, but raw red from the tears.

"Oh, it's you," were her unexpected words. He raised an eyebrow, knowing he had never seen this girl in his life before.

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to know you?"

"Nah. I suppose he never would've even mentioned me, would he?" Now he was even more confused.

"What? Who?" To his amusement, she huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Malcolm O'Neill. Your cousin, you know? The bastard." Jack winced. His cousin had quite the reputation when it came to girls. They always seemed to fall at his feet, and in return, Malcolm had a bad habit of trying to date all of said girls at once. Sighing, he sat himself next to the blonde, smiling slightly.

"He got to you then, did he? He's never been a one girl kinda guy, yah know."

"Yes, I do know. That's why I'm so damned annoyed that he got to me anyway." He eyed her speculatively. How had he never met her before?

"So why haven't I ever seen ya around before?" The corner of her mouth tipped up, blue eyes clashed with brown for a split second before both sets turned to the ground again.

"I only moved here about 2 months ago. I'm four years younger than you, so it's doubtful I'm in any of you classes. And as for social activities, I'm on the girls' track team and in the science club. Again, two places where it's very doubtful I'd come across you."

"Then how did you meet Malcolm? If you're only 13, then how come….I mean he's only a year younger than me."

"Yeah. He was at the science club."

"Malcolm. At a science club?" His mind reeled at the idea. It was more likely that he himself would turn geek before the year was out.

"Yeah. I thought he was there coz he liked me. I was wrong apparently. I was just a bit of fun until he could get his hands on Betty Green," she sniffed half heartedly.

"Ah," he didn't really know what else to say.

"Thanks for coming over. But I'm OK, really. I'll be fine in a bit," she rubbed at her eyes, making them even redder.

"Nah, s'ok. I'll stay for a bit, if you don't mind. Hey, if I've never had a chance to meet you, how come you know me?" She gave him the little tilt of her mouth again, as if she was trying to figure him out.

"Everybody knows you." Ok, now he was confused.

"Huh?" As the tilt became a cheeky little grin, he got the distinct feeling he was being teased. He frowned, ignoring the way his stomach gave a little flip.

"Think of it this way. All the guys know you because you always beat the crap out of any opposing team when it comes to hockey, football or baseball. God knows how you find the time to practice for all three sports." She was still smirking at him. He kept the frown on his face, trying his best not to smirk right back.

"Weeeell….I just like sport I guess. I don't really do much else apart from play sport…." he trailed off uncomfortably. He was just glad that his ability to play those sports distracted people from the fact that all his other classes bored him half to death. The consequences of that were the clearly lower marks. Especially in science. Which was why he usually avoided the company of science geeks at all costs. But not when it came to cute blonde ones apparently. Suddenly he realised that she was speaking again.

"And the girls, well, as good a hockey player as you are, it's doubtful that they like you just for that. You're even cuter than your cousin you know, especially since you've never been known to treat girls like sh-"

"You know, you're language is worse than mine, and that's saying something!" He really needed to change the subject. He noticed that a little redness was tingeing her cheeks.

"You think you'll ever get over that cousin of mine?" He regretted the question immediately. Her blue eyes flicked from his face and back to the ground again.

"Well, I'm sure I can work on that. He's the first guy I've ever really liked, you know. But…."

"Hey, it's ok. I know the perfect cure for heartbreak." Her eyes met his.

"You do?" Her tone was doubtful. He felt a surge of protectiveness that he couldn't explain. He had a sister the same age as her, maybe that was it, he told himself. This was the big brother in him that wanted to help this egg head.

"Yep. Cake." She laughed outright at that, a giggly, girly sound that had him grinning from ear to ear in return. He stood, stretching his arms above his head. Looking down at the hopeful young face, mirth still shining in blue orbs. He held out his hand.

Taking his outstretched hand and letting him help her up, she spoke;

"My name's Sam, by the way. And are you _sure_ that cake cures heartbreak?"

"My name's Jack, but then you already knew that. And yes I'm_ sure_, I know for a fact that cake cures _everything_."

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Hope u liked! Constructive criticism - positive and negative - is welcome, but no flames!

Thanks, next chapter is already written, so it will be up in a bit.


	2. Chapter 1: The Great Idea

Thanks guys for the great reviews!! This is the next chapter, moving on from the teens bit.

Bookworm37, thanks 4 helping out with that. As a linguistic student, I'm absolutely horrifed that I'm making mistakes like that, but there we go. I've tried checking the grammar with word this time, so hopefully I haven't missed anything.

SO...anyone interested to be a beta reader, please feel free to contact me, or say so in a review, thanks.

For disclaimer, see epilogue.

Now, onwards with the story...

**Chapter 1: The great idea.**

She couldn't believe it. She actually felt like stomping her foot down in frustration. How could he have done it again? But she already knew the answer to that. That was how he was and he was never going to change until he fell in love himself. And that was as likely as an alien beaming suddenly into her sitting room. She had to move on.

Yet how many times had she tried to move on from Malcolm O'Neill, and promised herself that those green eyes would never trick her again? And every time she fell for him. Every. Bloody. Time. She shoved the last piece of the extra large chocolate bar into her mouth and groaned. She was heartbroken. Alone. And so full she didn't think she could move for a month. As Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan shared a scorching onscreen kiss, Sam threw the remote at the TV, wincing as it bounced back from the screen, crashing loudly onto the table in front of her. She so needed a life. One that didn't include Malcolm. Or one that included him falling desperately in love with her.

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The credits of the Saturday night movie were now playing on the screen. The phone rang, breaking into her chocolate induced reverie.

"Carter."

"You know, that's such a weird way to answer the phone."

"Sorry Jan, you know it's habit I got from dad."

"Yeah I guess. Hey, listen, Daniel and I have formed a plan. An amazing, brilliant plan that you cannot refuse."

"Oookay. I'll agree to it only if it doesn't include coffee."

"Coffee?"

"You know how you and Daniel get when you've had too much."

"Yes. Well. No, it doesn't involve coffee. I'm talking about one or two friends that we have that would really like to meet you and-" Sam cut across her friend quickly.

"No. Absolutely not. N. O. No way. No blind dates, thank you, goodbye."

"Wait, wait, you haven't heard the whole plan yet. You know we've all been a bit worried about you. You haven't seriously dated anyone apart from Malcolm since Jonas, and you know how much of a crack-up he was. Anyway, this will give you a chance to meet some hot guys and- no don't interrupt again- if you see one of them for a while, it might make Malcolm jealous like he was about Jonas. Now, if you carry on with another guy for a bit longer than you did with Jonas, Malcolm might realise that he can't actually live without you after all. If, by that time you're still hung up on him, fine. If not, you'll have a nice new man to play with!"

"Oh God."

"That means you'll agree doesn't it?"

"Janet…"

"Well?"

"It _is_ a pretty good idea."

"It would do you good to get out there you know. The entire faculty think so. You know, Pete Shanahan, the new history teacher, he thinks you're hot."

"No, please Jan, nobody from our faculty, it'll be embarrassing enough as it is."

"Ok, Ok, but even Jack thinks it's a good idea, and you know how worried he is about you."

"Christ, you told Jack?"

"Watch you language Sam, you're talking to a Christian here you know."

"Yeah, sorry. Fine, fine. I agree to this insane idea of yours."

"Really?" Sam heard a squeal, a lot of whispering and the phone being passed before a male voice came on the line.

"Hey Sam."

"Hey Daniel."

"Thanks for this; Narim is really excited about meeting you."

"Narim? What kind of name is that?"

"I'm not sure where his family comes from, but it sounds kind of European, maybe with roots in Italian, or maybe Spanish and-"

"Daniel?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry Sam. 7.30pm Monday night at O'Malley's okay?"

"That early?"

"He's a nice guy Sam. He doesn't like coffee very much, I promise."

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The door swung open a few seconds after she knocked.

"Hey Sammie, come on in, I was just about to order pizza, you want some?" His brown-blond hair was still wet from a recent shower, his jeans and blue shirt fitting his lean, muscled body nicely. Sam felt an unwilling shiver go through her. He was her best friend, and they just didn't have that sort of relationship, but hell, she was only human.

A phone was in his hand and an expectant look was on his face.

"Um yeah, just a plain cheese, thanks." He finished relaying his order and set the phone down.

They both sat on his leather sofa, feet up on the coffee table.

"So was the chocolate not enough to fill you up?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh." He grinned knowingly at her, before his features slipped into a slight frown. "You ok? I know he always gets you down. The dunce doesn't know what he's missing by letting you go every time you know." She smiled in thanks, but she thought Malcolm knew exactly what he was missing. And it obviously didn't bother him much.

Snuggling to Jack's warm side, enveloped in his arms and his smell, she nodded. What would she do without Jack to lean on, she wondered.

"You know, there's cake in the fridge." She had to laugh at that.

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And there you go. Another chapter guys? Or should I give up? Up to you, all you have to do is review...u know u want 2...


	3. Chapter 2: The First Dates

Thanks again for the amazing reviews.

For those of you who asked, the prologue occurs about 15 years before the main bulk of the story. So, if the main bulk happens in 2006/7ish then the epilogue would have been set at about 1991 or so.

Ok, next chapter is up 4 u, hope u like...

(Because I flick from place to place here, I've put the_ location_ of each bit in italics, so that it's (hopefully), less confusing.

**Chapter 2: The first dates.**

_Jack's place_

"What do you think?"

"Yeah, great."

"You're not even looking!"

"Hmm?"

"Jack!" Hearing the warning in her voice, he raised his head from the gameboy that held his attention. He was sitting in a kitchen chair, still in his usual clothes from a hard day at work. Though Jack could hardly complain: being a sports teacher was hardly the hardest job in the world for him, he loved it. But he'd set his sights on a quiet night in, just him, his gameboy and a cold one. Then she had turned up. With clothes. Lots and lots of clothes.

"Couldn't you ask Janet, I mean she's a _woman_, she might know a bit more."

"No, that's the point, being a guy; you're more likely to know what another guy would like to see."

"Geez, Sam. Fine." He appraised her white cotton trousers and light blue blouse, comparing it to the earlier beige pencil skirt and white blouse.

"Well?" He sighed.

"The skirt was better." She frowned, looking down at herself.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Why?"

"Why?" He huffed, irked. "You're asking me why?"

"Of course. Why the skirt over pants?"

"Because you looked hotter in the skirt, ok?" A faint redness appeared on her cheeks, and he gave her a smirk.

"Sam, you look good in whatever, go in the pants if they're more comfortable."

She smiled at him, and then gave a small laugh. "You know, for someone who claims to be bad at talking about stuff, you have a tendency to always say the right thing to me when it comes to moments like these."

He huffed again and returned his attention to his gameboy. He was so used to the flip of his stomach by now that he could ignore it with an ease he was almost, but not completely, proud of.

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_O'Malley's_

The drone of his voice had lulled her into a semi-conscious state. She felt on the brink of actually falling asleep when he stopped talking abruptly.

"Sam?" The sound of her name startled her back to consciousness,

"Oh, I'm sorry Narim. I had a hard day at work, some third years were being a bit rowdy, you know. I, eh, I…you teach geography, right?"

"Yes, at St. Marcus's, the private school down the road. Do you know it?"

"Yes. It seems like a lovely school," she added politely, fighting back a yawn.

"Yes, they have a fantastic library, and an especially good section about stamps…."

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_Unspecified Italian resteraunt_

"You mean he spent the whole night talking about _stamps_? Daniel, where did you find this guy?"

"I really am sorry Sam; he seemed like such a nice guy!"

"It's ok Daniel. He probably was, just not my type, or something."

"If I was a woman on a date with a guy like that, I think I might have slapped him upside the head and told him to talk about something else. Like baseball or something."

"Jack, if you were a woman, that'd probably be worse than talking about stamps."

Daniel laughed at the pair of them, smiling at his wife. Janet rolled her eyes back at him.

The four of them were sitting in a booth at an Italian restaurant, having met to discuss Sam's first blind date. Her awful first date, apparently.

"Okay, so it was a bad date," Daniel interrupted the sparring pair as their argument started to escalate. "What about this Martin. He doesn't sound like the type of person to like stamps. He's a sports teacher like you, Jack." His friend grimaced.

"Then I'd say keep away from him, he's likely to be a slime ball when it comes to women!" Sam punched his arm.

"I've never known you to live up to the title slime ball!"

"Well I don't know," conceded Daniel. "When was the last time you heard of Jack going on a second or a third date with any girl?" Noting the tensing of Jack shoulders, and the way his eyes strayed to the table, flicked to Sam then back at the table, Daniel decided to change the subject.

"Well, anyway, how about it Sam? 7pm on Friday night?" She was looking back and forth between himself and Jack curiously, but she answered:

"Sure, what have I got to lose?"

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_Jack's place, a few days later_

"It can't have been that bad," Jack said as he clicked the kettle on, turning back to where she was leaning on the opposite counter. Her face was a grimace.

"He asked me what colour underwear I was wearing."

"Maybe he was curious?"

"And whether he could see them tonight sometime."

"Ah."

Turning towards the kettle again, he grabbed a mug and poured her some of the green tea she really liked. He passed her the mug, looking at her searchingly.

"You sure you're doing the right thing here. I mean, you haven't hear from Malcolm for a month now. He's probably not even listening out for this."

"Maybe. But I need to move on with my life. I've been pining for him for fifteen years, Jack. I'm twenty-eight. I want a long term relationship, the wedding, the kids, the dog, hell, even the white picket fence. Malcolm will hardly offer me that on a platter will he?"

Jack nodded thoughtfully, but didn't say what was on his mind. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely comfortable about this blind date thing. He had no idea why, though. Protectiveness, probably, he thought. Then why had he become so uncomfortable the other night when Daniel had mentioned his own lack of long term partners? Geez, he'd had enough women showing interest. But he knew that his own lack of interest in anything but a short sexual relationship had something to do with the blonde leaning so casually opposite him on his kitchen counter. And it scared the crap out of him to think about it. So he tried not to, and changed the subject as quickly as possible to something a little safer.

"Hey, there's a game on Saturday. You coming with?"

"No, 'fraid not. I'm going on a daytime date Saturday. Some guy called Tom Orlin. He sounds ok. But then, so did the others."

"Hey, remember, if it all goes to hell, there's always cake in my fridge."

With that, she smiled, crossed the kitchen and hugged him tightly.

"What was that for?"

"For always being there for me, in your own little way. I have no idea what I'd be doing without you."

"Probably eating less crap." She guffawed into his shoulder, and then released him, searching his brown with her blue. Giving him a peck on the cheek, she placed her empty mug on the counter behind him and walked out of the kitchen. He heard the front door of his flat click shut behind her. Sighing, he tried to get her smell from his nose by shaking his head. But he knew the smell already, had memorised it years ago. Rolling his eyes at himself, he grabbed the mug. Washing the dishes. That would take his mind off things for a bit.

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I think that'll do for now. Anyone for more??


	4. Chapter 3: A Welcome Home

Again, I have to thank every1 for their reviews!!

Aria-wolfstar - Yep, ur right, i did mean prologue. Silly me!!

Bookworm37 - Have changed that, thanks!

ccdsah - Hopefully, we will see T and Kerry in the near future (this chapter in fact), and maybe even Pete. Not thinking of bringing Sara in tho. Thought that wud make a simple story way too complicated.

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Here's the next chapter. I'm putting two up today, since I'm not gonna be able to write for a bit. So here goes.

**Chapter 3: A welcome home.**

Well, that date had been a bust.

She'd been so hot as well. Jack nodded at the doorman as he headed into his apartment building. Kerry Johnson had gorgeous copper curls past her shoulders and amazing green eyes. As opposite as he could possibly find to a certain blonde. Unfortunately for him, she had caught on today that serious wasn't what he was looking for.

_"Yo, O'Neill. Who's the hot date?" T, as subtle as ever. _

_"This is Kerry Johnson. Kerry, this is T, our first aider. Also owner of the local sports centre. You should check out his Tai Chi classes. You'd love them."_

_Kerry nodded at T, who gave her a 'subtle' once over. She grinned back at him and then turned her grin onto Jack, before saying to T:_

_"It's great to finally meet a friend of Jack's. You're the first."_

_"Really, O'Neill, that's awful, even for you. How long you been seeing each other?" Jack took a breath to answer, but she did it for him._

_"Almost two months now."_

_"Two months? Geez, Jack, you know that's a miracle. Never thought you were the serial dating type." She was still smiling, though a little ridge had formed on her forehead; a sign that she was puzzled. Jack swallowed._

_"Yeah, well..."_

_"You know why he doesn't introduce you right?" Whispered T conspiratorially, leaning slightly towards Kerry. She looked curious now, shaking her head in reply._

_"It's 'cause he's afraid us guys will take you away from him, and that the women - **hot **women- that he's friendly with, will try and chase you off," he laughed at his own joke. Kerry was laughing too, obviously comfortable in the company of the boulder-like black man. Even if he did look kinda scary, T was a big softie, and an even bigger flirt._

_It was then that T made the usual foot in mouth comment._

_"And then there's Sam of course."_

_"Sam? Is he on the same faculty as Jack then?" Jack could feel the conservation heading downhill quickly._

_"Yep. The science geek. Physics teacher. Though a she rather than a he." Even quicker._

_"Haven't heard of her yet." Her curious gaze was now on him._

_"His best friend." T sounded surprised. "She practically lives at Jack's." Now he was freefalling, and he squeezed his eyelids together, trying to think of something to say._

_"They're close then?"_

_"When I first met 'em, I thought they were married!" T laughed loudly, but this time Kerry didn't._

From then on, the conversation had petered out. When T left, heading for the hut where the team stood, anxiously waiting for the first whistle, Kerry turned on him. Why hadn't he mentioned this Sam? How close exactly were they? How often did she come over? How often did she _sleep_ over?

His stuttering answers hadn't seemed to be convincing enough, and a few minutes later she was gone. A fantastic ending to a fantastic date...not.

The game, on the other hand, had been great. His team had won by so many points that he could see the other coach losing track of the score. Rummaging through his pockets for his keys, Jack wondered what he had in the fridge for an early dinner. Maybe he'd call for some Chinese.

When he opened his door, the sight that greeted him was a surprising but not an unwelcome one. In fact, it was such a good feeling to see her there waiting for him, he decided it would be a good idea to stop that train of thought as fast as humanely possible.

She was lying on the couch, feet up on the arm rest. Her shoulder length hair was spread behind her on the cushion, eyes closed in a peaceful slumber. Dropping his rucksack and removing the cap from his unruly hair, he quietly made his way towards her. Sitting slowly on the edge of the couch, he saw her eyes flutter slowly open. Their eyes met.

A slow smile made its way to his face and he let a finger trail down her soft cheek,

"Hey," his voice seemed deeper than usual, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Hey back," she was still smiling.

"You know, I was sure this was apartment 67, not 98 that I walked into." She gave a small laugh and, hands above her head, she stretched like a cat. As if out of their own accord, his eyes trailed down over her body to the pale skin of her stomach that the action exposed. Swallowing, he dragged his eyes back up to her face, only to find her watching him curiously. Damn, caught red handed.

"I…" He found that his throat was too dry to speak. He coughed and tried again. "How did the date go?"

"Well, if you must know, the last date was also awful." She was still looking at him strangely.

"Really? What happened?" He mentally slapped himself for letting his eyes wander.

"It was nice."

"How is nice awful?"

"Well, we walked in the park for a bit, getting to know one another. Then we had lunch by the pond before watching a midday film. It was all quite romantic actually."

"Aaaand?"

"And he was shorter than me."

His eyebrows rose dramatically. Then he started laughing. And laughing. Until his stomach hurt. When he finally seemed to come to his senses, he saw that she had been laughing with him.

"God Sam, if you really liked the guy, does it matter?"

"Yes!! I have no idea why, but it just put me right off him. I know I'm tall, but both you and Daniel are taller than me, and it was just plain weird."

He snorted then shook his head.

"You know what you need? Get a really _hot_ date. Have lots of steamy sex and then make sure Malcolm hears of it. Might make him come back."

"But it won't make him love me."

"No. Probably not. But the date might make you feel better about yourself."

"Yeah."

They fell into a comfortable silence, hands tangled on her stomach.

It was in that silence, that Sam had the idea. One that couldn't possibly fail.

"You know, Jack. Malcolm has always been jealous of one other man."

"Yeah? It'd be great if you could date him then."

"Mhm. Then I could make him incredibly jealous, with a man I'm already comfortable with."

"You already dated him before?"

"No. He's my best friend."

"Daniel? But he's married. Mal would never fall for that."

"I meant you."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"But…"

"But what? It's the perfect plan and you know it. Besides, all we'd have to do is let him see us once on a 'hot' date."

"Well, I guess, but…."

"But?"

"All right, fine. I'll try to find out where he is next weekend."

"Thank you! I knew there was a reason I kept you around." She gave him her trademark cheeky grin, and Jack knew at once that this was probably the stupidest thing he could ever have possibly agreed to do.

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Ok, next chapter up ina second...


	5. Chapter 4: Brown On Blue

Here we go, another chapter on the same night, aren't I kind ;OD

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**Chapter 4: Brown on blue.**

It wasn't as if this was a real date. It wasn't as if he had asked her out at all. They had planned this so she could snare another man. So why-oh-why did the idea of a date with Jack make her so uncomfortable?

Looking up as the bell rang for the end of class, she dismissed her students. Glancing at the clock, she was surprised to see it was also the end of the day. The children filed out of the room as she considered her dilemma. Clothes. What the hell was she going to wear? She had to wear something hot, otherwise Malcolm would hardly nod her way. But then, she didn't want to look like she was trying to impress Jack. Did she? Rubbing her face with her hands, she groaned loudly. What the hell was wrong with her all of a sudden? Sure, she could admit that Jack was good looking- ok really hot, if she were honest- but she had never thought of him in _that _way. He was a friend. Nothing more. And that was the end of the matter.

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Yep. Something downright ugly had hit the fan. He should have said no. There wasn't a chance in hell that he was going to get through this in one piece. At the very least he was going to eyeball her in a perverted way and say something utterly inappropriate, or touch her in a way he shouldn't and- hadn't ever- done or punch Malcolm for even trying to come near her and be way too possessive for a 'best friend'. Knowing his luck, he'd do all three.

He'd chosen to go all in black, seeing as it looked to be his funeral. Suits weren't really his thing, but this place was first class, a place where Malcolm often took his dates while he lived in Colorado. Now, of course, he lived in New York, top lawyer that he was.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he knew that a guy like him had no chance when it came to Malcolm O'Neill. It was hottie vs. average. Lawyer vs. sports fanatic. Romantic vs. well…not so much. Plus, Sam had been in love with Malcolm for years. Never with him. Damn, but that hurt. He couldn't understand it. He knew that even at thirteen she had turned his eye, being a cute blonde, even a crying cute blonde; but the past few years, that flip of his stomach seemed to have gotten much more noticeable, and a lot more frequent in occurrence. It was also kinda obvious. According to Daniel, anyway. Apparently it was to everyone else except the woman herself, and he was "wasting his time" not going for it.

Life's a bitch and then you die, he thought. Clenching his fists, he huffed out a breath. He could do this. Without making one of those three big mistakes. He could. He would. Glancing at his watch, he realised he should get going.

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As she answered the door, she expected something hot. But she hadn't expected the reality. He was dressed all in black. Trousers, shirt and jacket. Standing straight, arms behind his back, he looked absolutely edible. Almost choking at that thought, she smiled at him. However, he wasn't looking at her face; his eyes were looking her up and down, rather judgementally, she thought. Maybe the dress wasn't hot enough. Janet had said it would blow any guy away. But she was a woman who liked men, how would she know? It might be the most unflattering dress on earth from a man's point of view. Or sluttiest. Or something.

"Do I not look okay?" she asked hesitantly.

His eyes swept upwards and the look in the brown depths made her freeze. As their gazes met, the brown darkened into black, making her heart leap in her chest, her blood rush to her cheeks and her breathing accelerate.

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She was wearing a red dress that didn't reach her knees. He had never seen her show that much cleavage or leg before, and her question hovered fuzzily in his mind for a few seconds as he drank in her appearance. Their eyes met.

"Christ, you look hot," the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Mistake number one, he thought to himself. Instead of looking shocked as he expected though, she looked pleased. "Thank you," she replied, making her way into the hall, closing the door behind her and linking her arm though his, as they had a thousand times since they first met.

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She spotted him as soon as they entered the restaurant. He was in the far corner; she could see his neatly combed blonde hair over the head of a beautiful brunette that was seated opposite him. She let out a small groan. She had hoped he'd have been here on a business meeting. Surprisingly though, she was more angry than upset. A warm hand squeezing hers brought her back to the present as they were led to their table. They were in the opposite corner, far away, but near enough to catch glimpses of both of them. She knew he'd seen them, had felt his eyes follow them to the back of the room. It made her feel uncomfortable, but again, not upset. Jack, seeing the frown on her face, asked:

"You ok?" She nodded in reply, sinking deeper in thought. She had yet to set eyes on Malcolm, and not be in either love or hate. This was a first.

That's when she realised, that all night, she hadn't even thought of Malcolm. Only Jack. Tonight, she had dressed for Jack, not Malcolm. The though stopped her in the middle of sitting down. Hovering just above her chair, she realised Jack was looking at her questioningly.

"We can go if you want," he said quietly.

"No!" It was almost a shout. His eyebrows lifted. "No." She repeated, a little less vigorously. He nodded in acceptance as she sat.

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They were dancing. It was all Jack could do to stop himself from pulling her closer. Malcolm was smirking at him from across the room. He obviously didn't buy their act. Well, who would? They were dancing as if practically allergic to each other. They had danced before, with no problem, but something was bothering her, he could tell. Sighing in exasperation he yanked her a bit nearer. She looked up, surprised.

"He's not buying it," he whispered.

"Oh." She was looking at his feet now, as they circled the dance floor slowly. Rolling his eyes, he yanked again. This time, their chests made contact, and with a slight "oomph", she lost her balance. He grabbed her, and, luckily, kept her from falling. Unfortunately, it also made mistake number two. Hastily removing his wayward hand from her backside, he mumbled an apology.

Her head was buried in his shoulder, her muffled laughter making him roll his eyes again.

"No giggling," he ordered. She looked at him, shaking her head, before leaning back against him, in an embrace he didn't think he could ever break.

As they danced, their gazes met and glued. Brown on blue. It could have been for five seconds or five hours, Jack had no idea. But, the voice that broke it was definitely unwelcome.

"May I steal your partner for a bit, Jack?" The voice was friendly enough, but he tensed all the same, his grip on Sam's waist tightening. She noted his reaction with a tilt of her head. It took all of his self restraint not to make mistake number three and punch the smug bastard in the face.

-------------------------------

Malcolm's arms were decidedly colder than Jack's.

"So, you and Jack, huh? I should have known, he's been hung up on you for years, you know."

"What happened to your date?" she changed the subject quickly, uneasy with the thought of Jack 'hung up' on her, and the way it made her stomach flip.

"Bathroom," he replied shortly.

"Well, maybe you should go wait for her then." She was surprising herself with the cold welcome. She wasn't the only one surprised, judging by the way his eyebrows were touching his hairline.

"Give it up Malcolm. For the first time in my life, I'm actually over you," and for the first time in her life, she also meant it.

------------------------------

That's it for a few days, guys. If u like, review. If u don't, review!


	6. Chapter 5: A Big Mistake?

Ok, so another two chapter for you today, since I'm going home for the week, and won't be able to post. Thanks for the fantastic reviews, and hope u like the rest of the story...

****

**Chapter 5: A big mistake?**

Watching her dance with the guy was like torture. He couldn't help the relief that swept through him when she left Mal within minutes and strode back towards him, a huge smile on her face.

"You're looking happy," he commented as she arrived at his side.

"Yeah. Can we go?"

Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, he followed her towards the exit, feeling Mal's gaze on them the whole way.

Outside, there was an edge to the wind as it blew through the streets of Colorado Springs. She was standing by his car, smiling happily, either ignoring or not feeling the iciness of the night.

"Home?" he asked.

"Home," was her reply. "Thank you for tonight. I needed it, I enjoyed myself, and I realised that I'm actually over him."

"Over him?" he sounded sceptical, he knew that, but they'd been through this before.

"Definitely. I think we should celebrate. Let's buy some champagne on the way back. And maybe, if you're lucky, some cake as well."

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That was how Jack found himself two hours and two bottles of champagne later, lying on his sofa, kissing Samantha Carter. He couldn't remember who had initiated it, or why, or how. But he really didn't care. Her lips and teeth were clashing with his, their tongues duelling. She tasted like she smelled, and he couldn't recall ever being so aroused in his life. Straddling him, Sam grinded into his hips, making him groan into her mouth. As her t-shirt and bra were thrown towards the floor, his hands kneaded her breasts and then it was his mouth's turn, and her turn to groan.

----------------------------------

Her eyes felt glued together, her throat as dry as any desert. She also couldn't move. As her eyelids struggled to lift, she realised her body was indeed held down: by a distinctly male form. Confused, she struggled to recall the events leading to the morning.

"Oh God," her murmur was enough for Jack to start stirring. His torso was on top of her, keeping her anchored to the bed, his legs were intimately tangled with hers. One arm was behind her head, the other across her stomach with his hand on her hip. It was a possessive gesture which- rather than irking her feminist side as it would usually- made her feel safe and loved. Loved? The though spurred her into action and she shoved him from her body, rolled off the bed and grabbed a t-shirt that was draped over the edge of the bed-frame. Pulling it over her head, she noted that he was now wide awake, frozen as he took in her dishevelled appearance.

To her surprise, his mouth tilted into a small smirk, and with a deep, throaty murmur that made her skin tingle, he greeted her with a "morning."

"Morning?" she squawked. "That's what you have to say to this? What did we _do_?"

This just seemed to feed his amusement, the smirk widening into a grin.

"Did your dad never explain the birds and the-" she cut across him rudely.

"Oh, don't start. Don't you realise what kind of mistake this is?" she was on a roll now. "We were good friends, we've _ruined_ that. It'll make things all awkward and…"

She realised that the smile had been wiped from his face. He was angry. She hadn't expected that. Surely he saw that this was a mistake? Or maybe he didn't, maybe he thought….

Before she could fully comprehend her mistake, he had raised himself in all his naked glory from the bed and had started collecting bits and pieces of cloth from the bedroom, following the trail from the hall to the sitting room.

"Jack, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…."

"I know what you meant. It doesn't matter. If that's how you feel, you can leave, and we'll act as if this never happened. After all, it was only a drunken mistake, right?" his voice was low and filled with barely disguised, seething anger. He pushed the clothes unceremoniously into her hands. Standing, frozen on the spot, she couldn't think of an answer. After a short silence, his piercing gaze slid from hers and he nodded.

"I'm taking a shower. I expect you to be gone when I'm done." With that, he strode into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

A tear slid down Sam's cheek as she surveyed the mess they had left behind around the couch. Jack's clothes were still littered here and there; champagne glasses and cake plates were on the floor. The cushions on the couch were rumpled and a flush rose in her cheeks as she recalled what they had done. A major mistake for both of them, perhaps, but she couldn't deny that in the bedroom department, Jack O'Neill _definitely_ knew what he was doing.

--------------------------------

Under the spray of the shower, Jack tried his best to calm his anger. Until the second he had realised she regretted their actions last night, he had felt so happy. There really weren't any words to describe the feelings he had felt when he knew that Samantha Carter was his. Really his.

There were also no words to describe the disappointment that had come afterwards. As she had gazed steadily back at him, holding her clothing in the middle of his sitting room, he had felt his heart break. If he'd have been the sort of guy that cried, he'd have been sobbing his heart out by now. But he wasn't. And he didn't. He just clenched his fists in the water, knowing his life would never be exactly the same again. No matter how much he tried, he knew for a fact that he would never get over Sam. He loved her. Always had, from that very first smirk. And he probably always would. He just hoped he wouldn't start to hate her for it.

-------------------------

She didn't think she'd cried so much in her life. Her heart seemed to be aching, but she had never fallen for Jack O'Neill, so what in the hell had happened? She sat on her own couch, tears streaming, and a bar of milk chocolate in her hand. But it was untouched. She wasn't even craving chocolate, and that had to be a bad sign.

It had taken her a while to admit it, but she was scared. Very scared. Being in love with Jack would be a problem. A major problem. He was in the same faculty, which would be embarrassing. He was her best friend (or had been, in any case), which would make it awkward. He was also well known for his sex-only relationships, his unwillingness to enter into any type of committed relationship, which would ultimately break her heart. Just like Malcolm had done countless times. If this one night stand hurt so much, she wasn't sure she'd be able to survive heartbreak if Jack O'Neill was the one that caused it.

-----------------------

Next chapter will be up in a bit...


	7. Chapter 6: Missing You

Here we go...

**Chapter 6: Missing you.**

It had been a month. A whole month since Sam had laid eyes on Jack. Her last sight of him had been of his naked back retreating quickly into his bedroom. Apart from desperately wanting to see him, her life was just peachy.

Janet had noticed something was up, if only because the four friends hadn't been out for dinner for 7 weeks straight.

"Okay, 'fess up." Leaning against the island which stood between herself and Sam, Janet gave her friend a knowing stare.

"What?"

"Something is wrong. Ever since that mysterious hot date you had last month, actually."

The only response was the shake of a blonde head.

"Sam; Daniel says that Jack is being an ass. More so than usual. Children have been going home crying. Which means it's something to do with him. I'm going to put two and two together and guess that he was the hot date. Am I right?"

The look on Sam's face was enough of an answer. Resigning to her fate, Sam shifted on her stool and leaned forwards on her elbows, then recited the whole story, tears falling as she finished:

"I haven't seen him for a month Janet. A month! And I miss him _so _much; I can't believe that it hurts like this. Most of the time I don't want to get up out of bed. At work, I stay locked up in my lab-"

"-I've noticed."

"Yeah."

"Honey, Jack O'Neill loves you." The startled expression on Sam's face was comical, and Janet snorted. "You obviously hadn't realised that."

"Realised it? Janet it's not true. He can't be..be...be in _love_ with me. For goodness sake, this is Jack we're talking about. He flits from one girl to the next as if-"

"-as if he doesn't want to get attached?" Janet prodded. At Sam's nod she continued. "And have you ever wondered why a guy like Jack; attractive, available, kind, loving; has been free and single for most of fifteen years? Even though he's had plenty of offers; plenty of women to warm his bed?"

"Well, he is related to Malcolm-"

"-but he's nothing _like_ Malcolm, Sam. He asked me never to tell you this. Last week, he came to see me." Sam looked startled again. "He said he missed you. That he didn't know what to do without you. It seems quite clear to me that he's never had a proper relationship because he has always been hung up on you."

"He came to see _you_?"

"Well, why not?" Sam gave her a look.

"Ok, well, he came to see Daniel, and I just _happened_ to be behind the door. But so what? Sam, the guy adores you. All you have to do is visit him once and he'll forgive you. Easy as pie." She could see her friend was too stunned to talk, so she pressed a hand to her shoulder and smiled.

"Just got talk to him." Sam could only nod mutely.

------------------------------------

Of all the people that could have turned up at his door, Sam Carter was the last person he expected. But she was there. Baby blue jeans, black t-shirt, hair pulled back and even as he recognised that she looked just as beautiful as ever, he could also see something else.

"Sam, you look like hell," his voice was gruff and unwelcoming, but even though she flinched slightly, it didn't seem to scare her off.

"Can I come in?" he answered by standing back slightly and extending an arm behind him towards the sitting room.

Sitting edgily on the couch, she remembered the last time she was sitting in this exact place. As if sensing her thoughts, he sat on the easy chair to her right, staring at a point somewhere over her shoulder.

"Jack?" making sure she had his attention, she continued. "I thought maybe…um…that we should, you know, talk about what happened, or something."

He raised a non-committal eyebrow.

"Oh, come on Jack, throw me a bone here."

"Throw you a bone?" he asked. He could feel the anger he had held in at their last meeting bubble to the surface. "Why the hell should I throw you a bone? You're the one that left, Sam."

"Yes, but…"

"I think you should leave."

"Again?"

"Again."

"Fine, if that's the way you want to play it." She got up, walking towards the door. Then she stopped and spun around.

"No."

"No?" He stood, moving towards her. "God dammit woman, I wasn't asking you, I was telling you, so get the fuck out of my house." His voice was a low growl. Having never seen him so angry, Sam backed up a step. But she knew why she had knocked on his door and sat on his couch. She was there for a reason.

"No. Janet told me what you said to Daniel." His eyebrows went up again, in question.

"She said…"her voice wavered as he stared vacantly at her. "She said that you said….that you loved me. That you missed me." Her confidence grew with every word. He could have nothing to say to that, she thought. But he surprised her.

"Actually, I haven't seen Daniel or Janet since that dinner at the Italian place we had over a month ago." His answer was so unexpected her mouth dropped open in surprise. "But, let's just say I did have this conversation with Daniel. What would you wanna say to me? That I was stupid, that I had no right to feel that way? That you would never feel like that about me?" As his words grated out, he walked forward so that she was backing towards the door. With his last words he had pushed her so that her back was pressed against it. She could feel his breath on her face, and no matter how angry she wanted to be, she was scared, and, to her annoyance, tempted to jump him right there. His head was tilted to the side, and she realised he was waiting for an answer. She shook her head, no. The eyebrow went up again.

His lips were on hers so quickly she didn't have chance to say anything else. All she could do was give him as good as she was getting. He raised her off the ground and her legs wrapped around his hips. One of them groaned, but Jack had no idea if it was him or her. He just knew that he had missed her, and that he would really need to thank the doc later.

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I'll try and post the next in a week or so! If u like or don't, please review. pleeeease?


	8. Chapter 7: A Potential BreakUp

Thanks again for the great reviews!

Bookworm37 - some great advice from T coming right up, thanks for the idea!!!

Small spoiler for season 8's Threads here, nothing much to worry about though.

**Chapter 7: An unwelcome surprise?**

This time, when she woke with his weight on her, she didn't panic. One reason being that she was content where she was; the other being that his hand was making small circles on her hip, leaving goose bumps in its wake.

"Morning," she said tentatively, knowing that she was repeating the word from the conversation a month ago.

"Morning," there was a smile in his voice. She looked up and matched his smirk with one of her own.

"So. Janet tricked me, huh?"

"I'd say so. Though if I were actually to talk to Daniel ever about stuff like _feelings_," he said the word as if he was discussing something particularly disgusting. "I probably would have said exactly what she predicted." His hand stilled as he waited for her reaction. Which was a brilliant smile, and three words he never thought he'd hear.

"I love you. I never actually realised, I was so caught up with trying to get Malcolm to fall for me. You've always been there for me, and I've just been taking you for granted. You and the cake." He laughed at that, kissing the top of her head.

"Just so you know, I love ya too."

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_(5 months later, Janet's place)_

It was amazing how a piece of plastic could put the fear of God in her. The mere thought of this happening would have sent her screaming for the hills; but for it to actually happen. To her. She was the kind of woman that sneered at others who said that they had made a 'mistake'. Sam swallowed reflexively. He was gonna freak. He was gonna be so angry with her. And her colleagues would laugh at her. People would judge her. And-

"He's going to freak out."

"He'll be fine with it."

"He's gonna freak out and leave, I just know it."

"Sam, you're pregnant, not… not….I don't know what would actually make him leave you really."

"Janet…." She fiddled with the plastic, the blue line glaring at her from its small frame.

"It'll be fine, just tell him."

--------------------------------

"Yo, man, what's with the long face?" T threw himself into the free chair next to Jack, making the man in question jump in surprise.

"You really need to learn to make a little noise when approaching, T"

"Don't avoid the question."

Looking around at the empty gym, Jack leaned back and looked at the tall hockey coach. The guy had been a good friend over the years, and usually stood by and let him grump if there was something wrong. Not like Daniel and Sam, always wanting to 'talk'.

"Look, O'Neill, I know I usually let you be, but this time Daniel - and not even Sam - seem to wanna make you talk. So, I repeat: what's with the long face?"

"I don't think things are going so great between Sam and me."

"Ok, that's bull. Pull the other one would you."

"No, seriously, she's been distant for a few weeks now. She keeps going over to Janet's and that means they're talking about stuff. I walked in on them the other week and they went quiet all of a sudden, making me paranoid they're jabbering about me."

"So, you think she wants to finish with you?"

"Yeah."

"No way, man. That's not possible," T shook his head decisively. "She loves you. That much is obvious to any old fool."

"Maybe that's not enough. I woke last night and she was crying. I didn't turn around to comfort her 'cause I thought she'd dump me if I did. What kinda coward does that make me?"

"If she was upset, maybe you shoulda said something."

"I know, but I can't lose her, T. She's everything to me, it'd kill me."

---------------------------------

Wringing her hands together until her knuckles where white, she stared at his hunched back. He was marking some essays for Monday. On a Saturday night. Which meant he knew something was wrong and that it would involve a 'talk'.

"Ok," he said suddenly, spinning around on his chair. "I can't take it anymore with the staring at my back thing. Spit it out."

"What?"

"Whatever you wanna say. Say it." He poked a finger in the air for emphasis. Frustrated, she realised she was shaking. And that the only emotion in his eyes was worry, and maybe a flicker of pain. It was enough to make her hesitate again.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you look so nervous. I don't like it Sam. Hate it, in fact. So, if you're breaking up with me, you might as well do it quickly."

It took her a few seconds to realise what he was getting at.

"What?"

"You heard."

"You think I want to break up with you?" He grimaced, and the sadness that seemed to grip him spurred her into action.

"I don't think I've ever heard you say anything so stupid. I'm just-"

"It's just that you've been really distant for a few weeks, you know. I was sure that-"

"I'm pregnant." The only immediate reaction she could note was a quick intake of breath as he processed her words.

"Really?" His voice was an octave higher than usual; that had to be a bad sign.

"Yeah," she shuddered, looking down at her hands. "And if you don't wanna be involved with this, I understand. I mean, we've only been together five months, and it was my fault really, getting my pill dates mixed up and I-" she cut off her ramble as a pair of strong arms wrapped around her. She sagged in relief and tears welled up beneath her closed eyelids.

"Sammie, you will _not_ be doing this alone. After all, you have Danny and the doc right?" he poked her in the ribs and she gave a watery giggle. "No giggling. And if those two are of no help, you can always come to me. No matter what you did with that pill or whatever: it takes two."

She opened her eyes and drank in the sincerity in his eyes. She sighed and nodded, a small smile forming.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being here for me."

"Always."

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The end...well, almost. Epilogue coming up...


	9. Epilogue: The End

Thanks for the comments guys, and ur support for this story. Hopefully, this one won't be my last. Here is a nice smushy ending for you!

**Epilogue**

Jack smiled. Again. Actually, it might have been the same smile he had been wearing all day. His son's first day home. Jacob Charlie O'Neill. After his father in law and his old friend Kawalsky. It was a pity that neither man had lived to meet their namesake.

Leaning against the doorframe, he watched as his wife soothed Jake to sleep. She cast a small smile in his direction and he smiled right back. Again. His cheeks should have started hurting by now, really, but he'd be damned if that stopped him.

He nearly jumped as a small hand grabbed his larger, rougher one. Stooping, he picked his four-year old daughter up, letting her nestle on his hip. She nestled her blonde head in the crook of his neck, looking up at him with her brown eyes.

"Hey, Gracie-poo, come to say good night to your brother?"

"Hate Gracie-poo. I'm Grace," she pouted.

"Right," he answered. "So, you like your baby brother?"

"He's wrinkly," was the reply. Jack snorted, making his way into the nursery towards Sam.

Wrapping his spare arm around her, he felt her snuggle against him.

"Hey, you two."

"Mommy, why is he wrinkly?"

"That's because he's so little and his skin is too big, he'll grow into it," Jack replied for her, ignoring the way his wife's lips pursed in repressed mirth.

"Why does he cry so much?"

"You did too at that age you know."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"Nope."

"Yep."

"Hey, shush," Sam bent over the cradle as Jacob fussed in his sleep, and she sent a warning glare at the pair behind her. Grimacing, Jack looked at Grace and put a finger to his lips. She nodded her approval, apparently not wanting a repeat of the crying fits her brother liked to have at dinner time, or nappy-changing time, or any other time.

As the three of them stepped out of the nursery, Grace asked,

"Jake came from mummy's tummy didn't he?" Jack nodded proudly.

"Yep."

"How did he get in there?" Startled, Jack shot a desperate glance in Sam's direction. She was laughing at him. And striding ahead of them down the hall. Deliberately. Witch. Seeing Grace give him an impatient and expectant look, he sighed.

"I'll tell you when you're older."

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THE END


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